


Responsibility

by Anastasia_Fry27



Series: That's It, It's Split, It Won't Recover (just frame the halves, and call them brothers) [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Pre-L'manberg, Rated T for TommyInnit, Sleepy Bois Inc Fluff, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric, Why is pre-manberg-pogtopia war a tag but not pre-lmanberg, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot-centric, trope: when your dad let's you adopt a kid but then doesn't help you raise said kid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29769093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anastasia_Fry27/pseuds/Anastasia_Fry27
Summary: Philza is perfectly content with one son, and training his pupil fills any spare room left in his heart. He's an old being, who doesn't realize letting a ten-year old to look after a toddler does not make him a shining father figure. Wilbur can't find the words to express this, so resentment grows and the family drifts in its wake.Or,Wilbur raises Tommy, and slowly feels himself losing his own father, and slowly becoming Tommy’s father figure.[This is entirely about the characters of the DreamSMP, not the CC's themselves. If any CC in this or any work of mine mentions they are uncomfortable with fanfictions they will be removed / the work will be entirely deleted.]
Relationships: Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: That's It, It's Split, It Won't Recover (just frame the halves, and call them brothers) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149866
Comments: 21
Kudos: 200





	1. I only got half a heart, to give to you

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hello! Heads up, the writing style changes as Wilbur grows up / third person POV shifts around, so that’s why the style in the first few chapters is so different from the prologue!! I love hiding details for later and foreshadowing, so I encourage you to pay attention to little things if you also enjoy that. If you notice anything at all please leave a comment it literally is the best feeling in the world to read them! Hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is found in the forest by Phil, who takes him home. Wilbur then begins caring for the boy, determined to nurse him back to health and prove to his father he can do something good.

It’s late, the sun set a while ago and Wilbur is laying in bed, counting the individual planks of his ceiling hoping it’ll lull him to sleep, when the front door swings open with enough force to make it hit the wall, and the floorboard creaks. Wilbur is quick to throw his blanket off him and peeks his head out of his bedroom door, relieved to see it’s Phil and not a monster or bandit.

He hates bandits. 

But it’s not bandits, it’s his father! Home from a long trip to get supplies from a few towns over, and he’s finally back home! 

His eyes are drawn to the bundle in Phil’s arms, wrapped in the man’s green cloak, and Wilbur’s eyes grow when the bundle  _ moves _ . Phil catches him staring and let’s an easy smile slip onto his face, but Wilbur sees the worried crease in his eyebrows. 

“Hey, mate. Get a bowl of cold water for me, bring it up to the spare room.” Phil hurries past him, careful to keep quiet,  _ trying not to wake Techno _ , and Wilbur complies. Whatever Phil’s brought home must be thirsty, but so he fills the bowl and makes sure not to spill any water as he brings it upstairs. 

He stops in the doorway, seeing a small child laying on the bed. He’s asleep, but his face is flushed and he’s sweating, and Phil’s hands rest on his right leg. Wilbur knows that look on his fathers face, he’d seen it when Techno was too rough during a spar and Wilbur ended up with bruises on his arms and ribs, and a new rule of no sparring unless Phil was there to watch. 

“Is he alright?” Wilbur asks quietly, creeping into the dimly lit room, only a lantern on the nightstand pushing back against the darkness. The boy looks so small, and as Wilbur comes to stop beside Phil’s chair, he can see the green under the boy’s skin. Legs aren’t supposed to be green.

“He’s… A bit sick right now, but nothing I can’t fix. He’ll be up in no time, just have to keep the infection from getting any worse.” Phil takes the water bowl from him, placing it on the nightstand and dipping his handkerchief in, wringing it out before lying it across the boy’s forehead. He turns to Wilbur then, worried crease still on his face, but his smile seems a bit less strained. 

“I’m going to go look for something to give him, stay with him for a moment.” Phil pats his shoulder as he passes, disappearing into the dark hallway, and Wilbur is left with an unconscious toddler. 

Wilbur… isn’t sure what to do. So he stands beside the boy, too full of nervous energy to sit, but he can’t move because his father had asked him to stay with the boy. The boy who looks very uncomfortable, and is sweating an awful lot. Hesitantly, Wilbur moves towards the boy's head and gently rubs his thumb over the boy's hairline, just as his father does to him. It takes a few moments, but Wilbur watches the tension slowly drain from the boy’s shoulders, and Wilbur can’t help but feel a bit of pride fill his chest.

He’s done something helpful, something right!

  
  


Phil enters the room with a glass bottle and a small dish of ointment Wilbur recognizes from numerous scraped knees. The man stops a few steps from the bed, looking at Wilbur’s hand on the boy’s head and his face melts into a soft smile, making Wilbur beam back. 

“What are you doing?”   
  


“He looked uncomfortable, so I did what you always do.” 

“Aw, mate.” Phil closes the gap between them, and sets the potion on the bed, freeing his hand to pat Wilbur’s head. “That’s very kind of you. Would you go fetch some of your old clothes for him? His are all torn up and we need to keep him comfortable.”

Wilbur nods, finally pulling his hand back and hurrying from the room. Phil settles into his chair with a sigh, beginning his work of treating the infection.

* * *

They take unofficial shifts, sitting and napping together beside the young boy as the inflammation goes down on his leg. Phil says he’s only still asleep because he’s malnourished, so Wilbur makes sure to remind his father every four hours on the dot that it’s time to prepare the boy’s soup so he can wake up and tell them his name. 

It’s during one such time, while Wilbur is stirring the potato soup to make sure it heats all the way through that Phil pulls a book Wilbur has seen many times before from the bookshelf in the living room, and settles down at the kitchen table.

“Are you going to the village again? I don’t think we’re out of sugar yet.” Wilbur leaves the wooden spoon in the pot and walks over to stand beside Phil, watching his father flip through the book of his contacts. The front door creaks open, and Wilbur can hear Techno step into the house, no doubt sensing the potatoes cooking. Weird pig senses. 

“Once the boy wakes up, I’ll bring him to the village. They have a good orphanage there that’ll take care of him.” Phil flips through the book, oblivious to the horrified look on his sons face. “I’m just looking for the matron’s address so I can send a letter with Clementine letting her know.” The messenger bird chirps from her cage in the living room at her name, and Wilbur sputters.

“But we’re taking care of him! He’s hurt and what if he needs help walking once he wakes up?”

Phil looks up from the book, finally seeing his son's face and sighs. “Wilbur, we don’t have room for another kid, and we certainly don’t have the resources-”

“I’ll clean out the storage room, you’ve been wanting to build a cellar, the junk -- things, the things can go down there! And Techno! Techno loves farming, I’m sure he’d be happy to expand the farm!” 

“Heh?” Techno stands in the doorway, dirt caked hand gripping the frame. Wilbur spins to face his fathers student, a wide smile plastered across his face. 

“Imagine a bigger farm to tend to! There’d be a bigger chance of growing those perfect potatoes you love to show off to the produce vendors son! You could go into town with a full sack, even! I’m sure he’d hate that.” Technoblade grunts and moves to the stove, picking up the abandoned spoon and stirring the soup. Wilbur turns back to Phil, who looks tired, rubbing his forehead with his hand. 

“Wil-”

“And when you go on your adventures, your training trips with Technoblade you don’t have to worry about me being all alone, cause I’ll have the kid here with me!” The house falls silent beside the bubbling from the stove, and Phil sighs once more. 

“Let’s see how the kid’s doing when he wakes up, yeah? We’ll go from there.” Wilbur nods excitedly, going back to the stove to ladle the soup into four bowls. 

* * *

“You really want to keep hime?” Techno stands in the doorway to the bedroom the boy is occupying, and Wilbur nods.

“Dad’s been talking about taking you on training trips again, I don’t really like the quiet.” Wilbur admits. “It gets real quiet, and I don’t really like farming.” Technoblade nods, eyes never leaving the sleeping boy as he moves to stand beside Wilbur. 

“What if he has a family?” Techno asks.

“He was alone in the forest, all the way out here, hiding in a tree. I don’t think he’s got one.” 

“He’s awfully far from a city, or town even. That means he has to’ve been traveling with someone.”

“Or he was left behind. Techno, look at him. He’s malnourished and dehydrated. Phil said he was tucked up in a tree sleeping, not unconscious, sleeping. How the bloody hell does a three year old traveling with family know how to sleep in a tree to hide from mobs?” Techno is silent, arms crossed and eyes calculating, then he shrugs. 

“You have a point, but that means someone put him there. I haven’t seen any tracks in the forest around where Phil found him.” Techno is silent for a moment, index finger tapping against his own bicep. “Okay, so he might have a family, but they left him behind, and haven’t come back looking. You’re right.” 

Wilbur smirks. “I’m  _ always _ right, Technoblade. You may be good with a sword but at least I can spell my own name correctly every time.” Techno’s head whips around to Wilbur, and he shoves his shoulder, releasing a laugh from Wilbur.

“‘K’ and ‘c’ make the same sound. And why the hell doesn’t ‘c’ and ‘h’ make the ‘ch’ sound in my name? You overworld creatures have no actual rules for your written language.” 

“And yet we understand each other perfectly.” 

“I am giving you a five second head start.” Wilbur freezes, flashing a smile, but when Techno doesn’t flinch he sprints from the room laughing. Technoblade sighs, walking forward and glancing back at the sleeping boy when he reaches the doorway. 

“Sleep well, kiddo.” Techno closes the door softly behind him.

* * *

“Why don’t we call him Theseus?” Technoblade suggests one day, while the three of them are settled around the fireplace.

“What kind of name is that?” Wilbur makes a face.

“It’s spelt exactly how you say it, so I like it, loser. What, do you want to just keep calling him ‘the kid’ or something?”

“I like Thomas,” Phil murmurs.

“Thomas is stupid.” Techno and Wilbur speak in unison, glaring at each other, but there’s no malice.

“Tommy then,” Wilbur says after a moment. 

* * *

It’s two days later that the boy wakes up. Wilbur is sitting beside the bed, dozing, with a book of maps open in his lap when the boy stirs with a groan, hand clenching around the blanket. Wilbur startles awake, eyes darting around the room. He thinks he’s imagined it for a moment, the only thing that had changed was the pinch in the boy’s brows, but then Tommy’s eyes open slowly, eyelashes fluttering. 

“Hello,” Wilbur says softly. The kid’s gaze shoots to meet his own, and his face scrunches up in what Willbur can only assume is pain or fear, probably both.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now. No more monsters.” Wilbur closes his book, setting it gently on the bedside table. The boy whimpers, so broken that it makes Wilbur wince.

“I know it hurts, but it’s getting better, soon enough you’ll be up and walking!” Wilbur smiles, and watches some of the tension drain from the boy’s shoulders. Not enough for his liking though. Tommy sits up slowly, flinching back when Wilbur’s hand moves forward to settle him back down against the pillows. Wilbur keeps his hands in his lap, thumb rubbing the side of his index finger as tears begin to gather in the toddlers eyes.

“Geen?” He cries out. Wilbur glances over to Phil, who seems to be slowly waking up.

“Well, um.” Wilbur wracks his brain, trying to come up with something to stop a panic induced meltdown before it occurs. He takes another look at his father, and it hits him, so he turns back to the boy with a hopefully comforting smile. “Well how do you think Phil found you? All he wears is green, your green leg must’ve drawn him to you! It’s nothing to fret about.”

“See his robes, they’re green, and your leg’s green. Obviously, the green knew you needed help and Phil knew so he came to get you! Now you’re here and it’s already healing up nicely!” The boy doesn’t seem convinced at first, but as Wilbur continues his ramble about how  _ yes, it really works like that but only with the biggest of kids, not babies, only big kids have the green looking out for them, _ he seems to relax, even letting out a small giggle that makes Wilbur puff his chest out in pride. 

“I’m going to warm up some soup for you, okay? Will you be alright with Phil?” The child looks worried, but he needs to eat, and Phil had been out all morning. Wilbur pats the kid on the head, ruffling his hair gently. “I’ll be right back.”

The kid does not, in fact, like the soup. 

* * *

“Do you have a name?” Wilbur asks later that night, Phil actually is sleeping in his own bed now that he knows the kid isn’t in a coma, leaving the three boys alone.

The boy does not respond, sitting propped up against the pillows and gently clapping his hands together, surprisingly entertained.

“I don’t think human kids speak this young, Wilbur.” Techno says, then looks at the boy, bending his neck in an attempt to make eye contact with the kid. “We’ve been calling you Theseus.”

Wilbur scoffs. “ _ I’ve _ been calling you Tommy because it’s way better.” The toddler looks between them, a confused look on his face as he blinks sleepily. He raises his arms, making grabby hands at Wilbur, who lets out a whoop. 

“Tommy it is then!” He exclaims, scooping the child gently into his lap, careful to mind his bandaged leg. The boy buries his head into Wilburs chest, tight fist gripping the soft fabric of his sweater.

“Ha, loser. You’re stuck there until he let’s go now,” Techno laughs.

“What-”

“When you were his size you had an insane grip, Phil could never get you to let go of his hair or cloak. We just had to wait till you either let go or fell asleep.” Wilbur looks down at Tommy, and Techno leaves, quiet laughter ringing down the hallway.

It’s only when he’s tucking the now sleeping boy back under the covers that he realizes he forgot to tell Techno that actually, the kid  _ had _ spoken, his first word was “geen”. 

Wilbur smiles as he gently shuts the bedroom door behind him. Perhaps it’ll be his little secret. 

* * *

“I’ll only be gone for a week, mate. We need the supplies. I’m trusting you to look after Theseus.”

“Tommy.” Wilbur shoots back.

Phil sighs, patting his son's head. “Just… Make sure the three of you don’t die while I’m gone, alright?” Wilbur nods, and watches his father walk down the path from their house and shut the gate. He glances back at the house when he watches the treeline, rucksack thrown over his shoulder, and then he disappears among the greens of the foliage. 

Thankfully, Technoblade has agreed to remain in the house and help look after Tommy, who hates being left alone. It’s hard to tell, but Wilbur himself likes to stay quiet about what’s bothering him, so he knows the signs. He knows the look in the other boys eyes, and the way that even despite his youth, he keeps his limbs close to him when he’s upset. He doesn’t babble much, but he clings to Wilbur's sweater when he picks him up, and doesn’t let go when Wilbur puts him down. He hasn’t cried yet, in all the books he’s read, babies cry, and the kids in the village usually cry after they fall down. 

His train of thought is cut off when Techno calls him inside, claiming that the kid was fussing.

“He hates me,” Technoblade laments.

“He doesn’t hate you… He just doesn’t like you,” Wilbur laughs.

* * *

Good things must always come to an end, because one day, two months later, Phil asks Techno to put Tommy to bed; Much to the toddlers disliking. Then he asks Wilbur to wait for him on the couch in the living room. Wilbur thinks he’s in trouble, but his father always tells him if he’s done something wrong the moment he finds out about it, so it’s not that. An animal could be giving birth soon, he wasn’t allowed by the animals, not since the incident, but then why would Phil be telling him It’s something else, he reasons, maybe- oh. It hits him when his father is sitting down beside him.

He’s leaving.

Phil must see the look in his eye, because he takes Wilburs hands in his own, rubbing his thumb over his sons knuckles. “It’ll only be a month at most, promise. We’ve got an extra mouth to feed now, and some monsters are terrorizing a village to the west. We’re going to go sort it out and we’ll be back before you know it.”

“What if something happens to me or Tommy?” Wiilbur asks. “You’ve never been gone that long.” 

“You’re a big kid now, you can handle it, I trust you.” Phil smiles. “You know where to not go in the woods, and you’ve helped me patch Techno up plenty.” Wilbur swallows. His father is confident in him, but Wilbur feels anything but confident. Nothing he says will change this though, his father loves him but he loves the sky and the unknown just as much; so Wilbur nods.

“I can do it.” His father smiles, and so Wilbur knows he’ll do his very best.


	2. Dear Niki, (Letter 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur writes a letter to Niki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a spacer chapter for worldbuilding you won’t miss much except foreshadowing and hints about stuff if you skip so if it isn’t your jam feel free to skip! Also I was editing the first chapter and realized I didn’t have a song for it and poured over every song I’ve ever listened to to find one lol. I intend every chapter of this to have a song to slowly show the progression of things in case I don’t cover all my bases.

Dear Niki,

Hello Niki!! Dad’s left with Techno on a trip for some money again, so it’s just me and Tommy! (Dad still refuses to call him that, what kind of name is Theseus anyway?) We’ve got plenty of food, and I’m determined to get Tommy talking soon enough, I’m sure he will, I just have to keep talking and he’ll mimic it, right? We don’t have any books on child development, I’ve checked Dad’s library and Technoblade doesn’t seem like the person to have those books lying around.

Since Dad’s gone I have to tend to the animals again, he said to make sure I’m extra careful this time, but I’m not looking forward to it. I wonder if Tommy will like the animals?

Has there been any news of travelers in the area around town? Last time the wandering traders were carrying some red flowers, and I’d like to try making some dye to use for clothes, we’ll need warm clothes for the months ahead!

Hope all is well in the village! Let me know!

Your friend,  
Wilbur Minecraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that they will send letters beside these (since there will be longer time skips coming up I just wanted to provide SOME fluff for this series before it drops into angsty hell) so the letters might not be exact replies to each other. They'll also be short because I understand ok not everyone likes reading that format, such as myself lol.


	3. I'm always winning the wrong game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur learns it's okay to ask for help when he's overwhelmed, a certain Captain makes an appearance, and Tommy learns some important life skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wacky genes and developed really quickly physically and mentally blocked out my childhood so I have literally no idea about child development therefore I’ve decided Tommy has seen some shitTM so he’s like, behind on development y’know like how kids can stop growing if they don’t feel loved? That’s why he’s about three but not talking or walking. Also, scuffed medical stuff because I’m taking a biomedical elective and only know the basics about medical care but I can tell you how a corpse decomposes in various environments. :D Enjoy!

Tommy has a fever that refuses to break, and for some reason he’s gotten clingy since Techno is no longer there to stay with him when Wilbur goes to do something else. This is how Wilbur finds himself stirring a pot of corn chowder with one hand and holding a crying toddler in his other arm. 

Wilbur’s getting frustrated. 

He’d had his father walk him through all the steps to his chores again and again until he was sure he’d perfected it, but this was not something he thought he’d have to deal with. His father had said the infection was gone, but it came back, and the only thing that was supposed to help any was wrapping the wound in some herb that grew in a clearing an hour into the forest, but Tommy couldn’t be left alone so Wilbur had to carry him back and forth everyday, he was tired, and the infection didn’t  _ look _ like it came back but it certainly wasn’t actually gone. He wanted his father to come home, but he’s working to bring home money so they can all stay in the house, and Tommy can stay with them, so Wilbur's going to do a good job taking care of the kid like his father asked him to. 

* * *

It’s the fourth night of Tommy being sick that the boy wakes up screaming, and Wilbur simultaneously wants to cry from joy and exhaustion. The boy was finally making some noise, but right when Wilbur had  _ finally _ fallen asleep. Nothing he does soothes the boy, not even rubbing his forehead, so Wilbur lights a candle and frantically writes a letter with their coordinates and a brief explanation, then hurries to the living room. 

“Hey Clem, take this to the guards tower, okay? Really quickly.” Wilbur unlocks the bird’s cage, carefully tying the letter onto her ankle, then he carefully sorts through the box of bells beside the cage, Clementine chirping curiously as he searches for the bell for the guard tower. He finds the proper symbol, and promptly opens it’s case, gently ringing the bell. Clementine quirks her head to the side, so he rings it again, and slides the window open. 

He watches as she takes flight, circling the house for a moment before,  _ thankfully _ , flying off towards the bend in the river instead of towards the town. Wilbur lets out a sigh, leaning against the window for a moment before he gets moving again, laying blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the couch, then he retrieves Tommy from the guest room upstairs, and sits in the bed of blankets, holding his brother against his chest as his cries die down. 

It’s going to be another long night, but Wilbur has to believe help will come. 

* * *

It comes in the form of a hybrid.

Wilbur is awoken by loud knocks on the door and sunlight filtering in through the window. It takes him a moment to realize where he is, and that the weight on his chest is his sleeping brother. Wilbur stands, adjusting Tommy in his arms so the kid is sitting on his left forearm, then he opens the front door without even checking who’s outside first. 

Outside stands a woman with curly white hair pulled back by a handkerchief, her hand resting on the sword on her hip. When the door opens her gaze is above his head, but it quickly drops down to meet him.

“Hey buddy, is there anyone else home?”

“Dad’s out, ‘s just me.” Wilbur replies. Her mouth forms an ‘oh’ and she nods slowly. 

“Well, I received a letter that someone’s little brother was sick, and the bird took me here. Do you need help with your brother, little guy?” Wilbur doesn’t answer for a moment, looking over the way she stands, feet shoulder width apart; confident. Her brown pants are tucked into her boots, and she’s wearing a white button up with puffy sleeves. She reminds him of Technoblade, the way she looks relaxed but is clearly listening to everything around her. 

He doesn’t have a choice to refuse help, but his nerves settle at the thought of his fathers pupil, so he opens the door a bit more to reveal Tommy, the toddler’s grip on his sweater tightening when a small gust of wind blows into the house.

“He had an infection in his leg a couple months ago and I think it came back, but I don’t know what to do because it doesn’t look it.” Wilbur explains in a rush. 

“Okay, can we go inside so I can have a look, or would you rather we sit out here in the garden?”

“Inside, the medicine’s in here and we need to eat lunch.” 

“Smart boy, you are. I’m Captain Puffy, you can call me Puffy if you’d like, what’s your name?” Puffy steps inside, shutting the door behind her, and follows Wilbur to the kitchen, glancing around as they move down the hallway. 

“Wilbur, and this is Tommy.” 

“Well, why don’t you get lunch sorted out, and I’ll take a look at your brother. We’ll sit at the table so you can watch.” Wilbur decides he likes the woman. She pulls her hair back fully with a leather cord, and her hands are gentle as she unwinds the bandages on Tommy’s leg, vocalizing each of her actions in a gentle tone, and reassuring Tommy that everything’s going to be just fine when he wakes up halfway through. Several moments later, Puffy tilts Tommy’s head to the side and lets out a sigh, patting the blond’s head.

“It’s an ear infection, very common with young kids. I can whip something up quick to give him that’ll bring it down.” 

Wilbur’s never felt so relieved. 

* * *

After reassuring Puffy that his father would be home soon, (three weeks  _ was _ soon) and her watching him make the remedy twice, she leaves with a promise to return if he ever sends a letter again, she departs back to her station in the tower, albeit hesitantly. 

Wilbur is left alone in a house with a toddler who’s now learning to stop being cautious about everything, and now loves making noise whenever Wilbur isn’t around to entertain him. 

Wilbur has a pounding headache that doesn’t seem to stop, but Tommy’s eyes never look fearful like they did the first night, and he prides himself in that. 

* * *

“Wilbur!” That’s Phil! Wilbur stands from where he was sitting on the floor of his room, almost tripping in his haste to reach his bedroom door. He jumps down the last two stairs of the house and leaps forward without looking, his father catching him and holding him close. 

“You’re finally back! So much happened, and we’ve missed you!” Wilbur pulls back to meet his fathers eyes, and they look tired. But he’s home!

“Oh wow, I’m so glad that I too was missed.” Technoblade sets his sword against the wall of the entryway, ever monotone. 

“Oh, hello Technoblade. You’re still alive I see.” Wilbur watches Technoblades gaze instantly become cold, his eyebrows pinching, and his hand slowly moves toward where he’d just set his sword. 

“Anyway!” Phil interjects, patting Wilburs head and moving past him. “We’ve got plenty of stories to tell, perhaps over a nice warm lunch? Where’s Theseus?”

“He’s napping! But he’s babbling now and he sounds so funny sometimes! Here, there’s plenty of potatoes in the cupboard, and we still have some frozen cow left. If you two can get started on lunch I’ll go fetch my notebook! Babies are so strange, I wrote down some of the babbling that was funnier. Oh! And the recipe for the treatment of ear infections, that’s handy to know.” Phil pauses in his motions of retrieving knives from the kitchen drawer, turning to look at Wilbur. 

“Repeat that?”

“Well you’re already getting the knives out for peeling the potatoes so we’re on the same page lunch-wise.”

“No the last bit, what about ear infections?”

“Oh! Tommy got an ear infection somehow a few weeks back so I sent a letter to the guard tower and they sent the Captain! And she taught me how to make this remedy with herbs to make him better!” Phil nods, turning back to the counter, and Wilbur continues filling the kitchen with excited chatter.

Over lunch, Wilbur fills them in on how Tommy’s started babbling and sometimes it sounds utterly ridiculous. Techno adds in snarky comments every now and then.

* * *

Wilbur sits in his chair near the window, flipping through his book on flag symbolism by the fading sunlight, when he’s interrupted by a thump in the hallway. Quickly looking up from the pages on ‘X’s, he stares at the doorway. He’s about to call out to see if it’s Tommy or an umbrella that’s fallen, or god forbid something got in the house, when he hears-

No way.

Quick, pounding footsteps come from the hallway and suddenly Tommy’s sprinting --well it’s more of a mix between a waddle and a fast walk -- towards him, holding up a bright blue cornflower from the front garden. Tommy’s holding it up, standing on his toes to make sure Wilbur can’t miss it, but Wilbur’s more focused on the fact that the kid’s walking. Nether, he’s running!

“Hey buddy, when’d you learn to run?” Tommy only tries to bring the flower higher, and Wilbur, remembering the kid hasn’t spoken yet, places his book on the windowsill and takes the flower from the boy's hands. 

“A cornflower, for me?” Tommy nods excitedly, and Wilbur ruffles his hair with a smile. “Thank you. Do you want to come with me to put it in a glass?” Tommy nods again, taking Wilbur’s offered hand.

A few minutes later, Wilbur leaves Tommy in the kitchen with a small plate of biscuits while he retreats to his room to note down the date and event with a proud smile. 

* * *

“Okay, let’s get us some breakfast, yeah?” Wilbur places Tommy onto the chair at the table, stepping away for only a moment to get the bread he’d toasted earlier. He could’ve sworn he’d taken the jam out earlier, and then he remembers they’d used the last of that jar earlier in the week. He steps into the pantry quickly, moving a few things around in search of the jam that’s always supposed to be on the right hand shelf, but apparently Technoblade disagrees because he always leaves it somewhere else-

“Wilby?”

Wilbur whips around, dropping the box of crackers he was holding. He must be hearing things. Quickly, he steps into the doorway of the pantry, and stares at the toddler, who looks distressed and is reaching a hand out towards the crackers now scattered on the kitchen floor. Tommy glances up at Wilbur and freezes, eyes widening, and  _ oh no _ -

“Hey no, you’re not in trouble! Can you say it again?” Wilbur rushes forward, crouching in front of the toddler and wiping away the tears forming in blue eyes. Tommy just stares at him, so he slowly says his name.

“Wilbur. Can you say Wilbur?”

“Wilby?” Wilbur smiles, scooping Tommy up, who lets out a squeal.

“Good enough. Ohhh Techno’s going to be so jealous.” His first word was Wilbur’s name! Well no, ‘Geen’ was technically his first word but it wasn’t really a proper word. “Here, eat some toast, I need to go write this down somewhere so I don’t forget to brag about it when they get home!”

* * *

“So his first word was him absolutely butchering your name?” Techno stands at the kitchen island chopping carrots while Phil showers.

“Technically, it was ‘green’ but I wasn’t going to tell anyone.” Techno raises an eyebrow but decides not to comment, instead turning to open the cabinet behind his head.

“We’re all stocked up on mushrooms, I made sure to leave them for your return dinner. ‘sides Tommy doesn’t like them, and they are kinda gross.”

Phil, who decides to make an entrance at that moment, voices his dissent. Technoblade throws a chopped carrot at Wilbur’s head, the other boy ducking to avoid the assault. The kitchen was filled with warm chatter, only halting when Wilbur darts out to retrieve his journal from his bookshelf. 

* * *

“Kid’s fast.” Techno leans against the wooden fence of the garden while Wilbur sits on the gate, both watching Tommy chase a butterfly around the clearing in front of their house.

“He ran before he walked, scared the shit outta me.”

“”Figures you’d get scared of a three year old.” 

“Oh shut up!” Wilbur shoves him, and they laugh. 

* * *

“So how long till the next adventure?” Wilbur asks later, towel drying Tommys head as the kid lightly taps his wooden horse figure against the bathroom floor. Techno stands in the doorway, sulking after being splashed with water earlier.

“I dunno. Phil says we’re good on money for a while, and I didn’t find any good books like I was hoping to.” Techno scratches his chin. 

“Still researching that old god?” Wilbur grabs Tommy under the arms and stands him up, the boy instantly falling against Wilburs legs and letting out a short shriek. 

Techno snorts. “He did not like that whatsoever.” Tommy’s head whips around, leveling Technoblade with the angriest look a toddler wearing dinosaur pajamas with a birds nest for hair can manage, and Techno raises his hands placatingly. “I know kid he’s awfully rude isn’t he, letting you fall like that.”

“I caught him!” Wilbur squacks.

“Your legs caught him, you’re lucky he didn’t fall backwards.” As Techno speaks, Tommy reaches out an arm towards the older man, leaning too far and causing Wilbur to let out a curse and Techno to crouch down quickly to catch him. He scoops the toddler up and lifts him over his own head, sitting Tommy on his shoulders, making sure to keep his hands on Tommy’s legs so he doesn’t fall.

“Baby proofing.” Techno huffs.

“You can do that, he needs to go to bed so he’s not cranky tomorrow. He’s awful to play with when he is.” Techno hums, leaning his weight back and smiling a small smile when Tommy’s fists tighten in his hair. 

“I think he’d like to see the house from a different angle.” 

“Yah!” Tommy exclaims, thought both Techno and Wilbur know he likely has no idea what they’re talking about.

“No.” Technoblade is already stepping outside, using his foot to pull the door quickly, before taking off down the hallway in a brisk walk. Tommy lets out a short strain of giggles, and Techno’s smile gets a little harder to keep small.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter cause I want to group events together y’know, like them getting Tommy was one chapter and Tommy getting sick / Wilbur being the primary caregiver is this one. Next chapter is longer to make up for it! Lots of fluff, some wholesome family dynamic!


	4. Dear Wilbur, (Letter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niki's reply to Wilbur's last letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are platonic letters between the CHARACTERS don’t be weird. I just thought it would be a nice interlude thing and also nice way to hint at things in the future / summarize later time skips. I'm a hypocrite but Niki deserves more attention her character is so badass.

Dear Wilbur,

Tommy’s speaking? That’s great! I was about to recommend taking him to a children’s doctor if he wasn’t talking in the next few months. Some of the mothers in town said their kids were speaking around fifteen months, and you said you all think he’s twice that? I think it would explain the nightmares at least, but I’m no doctor.

I’m glad Phil’s back, and I’m sure Technoblade is happy to make sure his potatoes are being taken proper care of! I’m sorry about the chickens, we haven’t seen any foxes near the village but I’ll let you know if they make their way over here, hopefully you don’t get in too much trouble with Phil.

Everything's been good over here, the wandering trader did have red flowers! I ground it up into dye before sending it with the letter, hopefully Clementine didn’t lose it. Jimmy, the local cartographer, mentioned there’s some caves near you, but he wouldn’t tell me any more without buying a map, so just be on the lookout. 

Stay well!  
\- Niki


	5. Soldier, Poet, King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade spends some time at the house, and he absolutely does not have a small soft spot for a feral child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s SBI brothers time let’s GOOOOOOOOOO (Techno is still Phil’s pupil but for now they’re just a toddler, a ten-eleven year old and their cool teenage uncle figure who does NOT care for these kids.) Also again I know nothing about child development except if they don’t see someone for a few months they’ll forget who they are which honestly same.

Something was wrong. Not deadly wrong, no Technoblade would’ve noticed it earlier, but that potato sack was definitely different last he looked at it. He stands in the middle of his field, arms crossed and sunhat thankfully keeping the sun of his head and neck. He squints, and yeah, there’s certainly something going on over there. Silently, he pulls his hoe out of the dirt he’s at his feet, and moves toward the stone wall surrounding the field. Soon enough, he’s looming over his potato sacks, staring down at Tommy, whose knees are tucked into his chest. He’s holding a small armful of potatoes, and is quietly giggling, seemingly unaware that he’s been found. 

And, well… Techno doesn’t have the best track record with orphans anyway.

He stabs his hoe into the ground again, not needing a weapon, then he reaches down and quickly grabs Tommy’s left ankle, pulling the boy up into the air quickly and letting him hang upside down.Tommy shrieks, his stolen potatoes falling around Techno’s feet. Techno sighs, putting a hand on his hip and leveling the child with an unimpressed look. 

Tommy giggles. Techno shakes him up and down, which only makes the kid laugh  _ more _ . 

“Go find Wilbur to mess with. How’d you even get out of the house?” The kid only gurgles, and Technoblade sighs. He knows what it is, he’s seen the aftermath of enough wars and battles to know the effects on children, though it varies. He weighs his options for a moment, letting Tommy hang in front of him. 

The kid doesn’t talk despite being three because something bad happened, either  _ to _ him or in front of him. He  _ was _ found wedged in a tree in the middle of the woods, Techno’d even found some blood and torn cloth, though he hadn’t mentioned it to Wilbur. The kid had seen stuff a kid shouldn’t have seen, and now that he was feeling safe he was learning to be loud and move on his own.

Techno sighs, and raises Tommy up so the kid, still upside down, is eye level with him.

“You get one day, and then I’m lumping you in with the rest of the orphans I’ve come across.”

Years later, Technoblade sits in a dark ravine, pulling potatoes from the ground, and remembers this promise.  It’s one of the few, that, despite his best efforts, he could not keep.

* * *

“Wilbur, did you teach him how to steal  _ already? _ That’s pretty smart I must admit, a scammer this one could be.”

“What’d he do? I look away to take a shit for two minutes-”

‘He’s fine, he was trying to steal my potatoes.” Technoblade stands in the hallway, kicking the wall beside the front door lightly to get the dirt off his boots, Tommy held under one arm. Tommy waves at Wilbur, kicking his legs lightly as they dangle.

“Hi Wilby!” He smiles a toothy grin.

* * *

“Here’s the cows, don’t get too close, they poop everywhere.” Tommy wanders further into the barn, standing about two feet in front of a cow, staring at the creature in awe. Then he reaches his hands upward and laughs, making grabby hands at the animal that is not at all impressed. Techno’s gaze slides to Wilbur, nudging him silently, Wilbur meets his gaze with a raised eyebrow, and Techno calls out, “Hey Tommy, wanna ride a cow?”

Wilburs eyes double in size, “No no Technoblade. He is not allowed near the animals.” 

“And why not, mother hen?” Technoblade scoffs.

“Because he’s not allowed.” Wilbur’s gaze is cold, and Techno shoves down his momentary surprise. Anarchy sounds fun, and he needs a good laugh, so he steps forward and scoops Tommy up, settling him onto the cows back. Tommy coos, rubbing his hands over the fine fur of the cows back. Techno stands right beside him, one hand settled on his back and the other on the cows side. 

“I wasn’t just gonna throw him on, y’know. I’m not  _ entirely _ heartless. Phil would be upset if you were upset cause he got hurt and all.” 

“Chick!” Tommy says, pointing to the chickens standing by the pasture fence.

“Now Wilbur, who would I be to deny the child the sight of chickens?” 

Wilbur holds his face in his hands. “Just make sure to feed them and don’t let him get trampled, alright?” 

Later, Tommy is tucked into bed, after  _ three _ lullabies, and fifteen minutes of Phil rubbing his forehead, covered in bandaids. Techno admits that perhaps letting a toddler who’s never been around animals before run amuck in a chicken pen was not the best idea he’s had.

* * *

“Shh!” Wilbur whisper-screams, holding Tommy close to him as they sit in a chest. “You are going to get us caught!” Tommy giggles, then makes as much of a serious face as he can. Clutched to the child’s chest is a thin golden crow, and outside the chest the two boys can hear Technoblade yelling.

“He’s going to find us eventually, so we’re going to have to take him together, okay? When he opens the lid, we have to jump him!” Tommy nods, face still set in a surprisingly serious way. 

“You both are so bad at hiding.” Wilbur’s charming smile stretches across his face as he stares up at Technoblade, who’s holding the chest lid open with one hand, the other out of sight. 

“Hello Techno!” Tommy smiles widely.

“Hello, Thief.” 

The house is filled with squealing as Tommy is lifted into the air by his arm, Wilbur holding onto him for a moment before realizing Technoblade is not one to let go and he does not want this play-fight to be ruined with tears of pain. He collapses back into the chest dramatically, making sure to knock the side loudly to draw the child’s attention.

“Tommy, I’ve been wounded by the great warrior hero Technoblade, avenge me!” Techno snorts, dropping the lid of the chest which closes with a loud crack. Tommy gasps, wiggling in Technoblade’s hold, reaching towards the chest. 

“Oh yes, the great hero Theseus is going to defeat me, sure.” Tommy looks back up at him, throwing the crown towards the living room, momentarily shocking Technoblade with the idea of that crossing the kids mind. Then, Tommy kicks Techno’s leg, ripping his arm from the other’s grip, and takes off running after the crown. 

“Told you, kid’s smart.” Wilbur snorts.

“Eh, he’ll tire himself out.”

“Yeah but he’s a raccoon, I swear. Sometimes even  _ I _ can’t find things he takes.” That reassurance that Wilbur, self proclaimed and deserved, ‘Dirty Crime Boy’ cannot find the things the kid hides sends him running after Tommy.

* * *

Technoblade sits on the couch of the living room late that night, cleaning his sword. The house is silent, except for some creaking floorboards by the top of the stairs… Technoblade looks up, and his eyes meet bright, sparkling blue.

“Sword!” Tommy yells, sprinting over, stumbling slightly on the stairs, and slapping his hands onto Techno’s knee, eyes glued to the blade. Techno snorts, and momentarily stops wiping down the blade.

“Yeah, this is a sword. Don’t touch the ends, it’ll hurt.” Tommy’s nod is exaggerated, and Techno  _ almost _ lets a small smile pull at his lips. But he’s a warrior, battle hardened and tough, so he instead pats the couch beside him, watching Tommy hop up beside him, and returns to wiping down the blade, listening to sentences that are only half coherent.

Ten minutes later, the babbling quiets down, and Techno turns at the feeling of a weight against his side. Tommy is sleeping, his small chest rising and falling softly. There, alone in the warm living room, Technoblade allows himself to be just a  _ little _ soft, just once. He puts his sword under the couch, behind his feet, because gods forbid the kid wakes up and skewers himself somehow. Then Technoblade absolutely  _ does not _ wrap his arm around the kid, making sure he’s warm as he sleeps.

He absolutely does not fall asleep, and there is no picture under Wilbur’s floorboards to prove it happened. 

* * *

“Adventure!” Tommy whisper-yells at Wilbur, one night at dinner. Techno raises an eyebrow, in the middle of cutting through his baked potato, and Wilbur turns to Tommy.

“Why don’t you ask yourself?”

“Ask what?” Phil looks at the two boys from across the table, watching as they seem to have a silent argument before Tommy faces forward in his seat once more. 

“Can you tell… us about adventure?” Tommy asks anxiously, eyes not leaving the bowl of vegetables in the middle of the table. Wilbur ruffles his hair approvingly, then continues eating his dinner. Tommy had begun talking in sentences around Wilbur, and occasionally Techno, but had yet to say more than a few sparse words in front of Phil, despite the man's kind attempts at playing with him, and soothing him to sleep nightly. 

“Sure, mate. What do you want to know?” Phil tilts his head to the side, putting his fork down on his napkin and giving the toddler his full attention. Tommy’s eyes light up, and his legs start swinging in the air beneath the table. 

“Mountains!” Tommy says excitedly. Phil smiles, and launches into a story about two large raids that had joined together, and had wiped out three villages on a mountain in a single week. 

When he puts the boy to sleep later, rubbing his thumb across the boys hairline, the boy mumbles out a sleepy “Thank you.” And Phil smiles. Tommy isn’t his son, but he’s glad the boy is a part of his home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYO HOW WE FEELING ABOUT TOMMY’S 3/1 AND 3/3 STREAMS??? PAIN. Anyway here’s some fluff to cope and pretend Techno did not canonically laugh at Tommy’s death ueueue.Thank you for reading! Comments are adored <3  
> \----


	6. Dear Niki (Letter 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur writes to Niki about Tommy settling in and opening up, and a birthday is decided for the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before a few long time skips. I'll probably write some one-shots later with stories from the lost time but tbh it was not in the plan for the story to be moving this slow lol, but I got sucked into writing fluff to make up for canon angst.

Dear Niki,

Tommy’s settling in very well! He seems to like the cows in the barn, (Techno showed him even though I told him not to.) whenever we go outside to play he always runs to the wall around the garden and looks at the pasture, I’m thinking of buying him a stuffed cow. I think he’d like it. He’s gotten more comfortable talking around Techno and even has short conversations with Dad, though that might be so short because he’s always asking Dad to tell him stories. Dad’s been talking about going on an adventure down South, he wants to go looking around some kind of large ice biome some travellers told him about a while back. He promised not to be gone too long, but Techno’s going with him so it’ll just be me and Tommy again. Maybe we could come visit you? The village isn’t too far and I’m eleven! 

This made me realize Tommy doesn’t have a proper age or birthday. Maybe I should figure that out. If I can’t, feel free to come up with a day for us to celebrate, I’m sure he’d love it.

Wish you well,

Wilbur

Attached to the letter is a folded piece of paper with red scribbled on it. The drawing depicts a tall boy with a ‘W’ above his head, a short boy with a ‘T’ above his head, and a figure with long hair and a skirt with the letter ‘N’ above its head. Beside it is an arrow pointing at the figure with the word ‘Girl’ written beside it in messy handwriting. The ‘r’ is backwards.

The recipient smiles upon receiving her letter, and the picture finds a home on the wall behind the desk in her room. April ninth is a lovely date, she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in time, about a hundred more of you have read this than the prologue. I'm curious why, please let me know. I mean I don't have a favorite but *Covers this fics ears* I have a favorite by a LOT and it's Constants.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos are loved and Comments are adored!!


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